


Eyes Closed

by ShotsbyShae



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-05 22:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20496371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShotsbyShae/pseuds/ShotsbyShae
Summary: Steve’s just trying to keep a promise he made to his best friend.





	1. Chapter 1

** _Now if I keep my eyes closed, he looks just like you._ **

** **

** _Two Years Ago_ **

“Promise me,” his words are almost desperate as he watches you slowly approaching with Shuri. “Promise, if anything happens, you’ll watch out for her.”

“I promise Buck,” Steve glances over at his friend sincerely. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

He gives a quick shake of his head, “I can’t – I can’t risk losing her.”

“Shuri is going to give us new coms,” you say with enthusiasm as you get closer to the two men. “They’re smaller, not as noticeable, and have a broader ranger.”

“You’re welcome,” the princess smirks.

“Thank you,” Steve replies as she walks past him to her table full of gadgets.

“Ready for a mission?” Your joy is infectious, and Barnes laughs a little as you bounce eagerly from one foot to the other.

Bucky looks past you to Steve, “Did Sam give her coffee again?”

Rogers just gives him a shrug of his shoulders, “I saw nothing.”

You and Bucky start out of the lab, discussing what is considered an acceptable amount of coffee, while Steve waits for Shuri to gather the coms. She turns and hands him the box, watching as the two of you leave.

“There’s nothing more dangerous than that,” the princess comments with a knowing smile.

“What?”

“A witch and her wolf.”

** _Present Day_ **

You stare at the man standing in front of you, his eyes are full of the same sadness yours carry. Those eyes, they’re almost the same blue as Bucky’s, and it pains you everytime you see him. You can't believe it's been over a year since you lost him. Barnes had been there for you while you mourned the loss of your best friend. He was the reason you were still here – still alive – but Thanos had taken him from you.

Life isn’t fair, it’s cruel and sadistic. 

“Stop coming to check on me!” You yell at the man before you.

“I was just in the neighborhood,” Steve replies calmly.

“What the fuck ever,” the words are callous and cold. 

“Please,” he begins, his eyes soft, “just come to a meeting, I promise –”

“What! Promise to bring them back?!” Your voice rises again, as you shake your head in frustration, “You can keep your meetings. If you had listened to Tony –”

You throw the water bottle in your hand across the room angrily before you turn away from him, wrapping your hands around the back of your neck. The pain is unbearable somedays and Steve’s presence is only accentuating it today.

Steve’s voice is firmer when he speaks this time, “I’m sorry, but you can’t keep doing this.”

You turn on your heel sharply, eyes narrowing at him, “Who’s going to stop me?”

Steve tilts his head at you, almost challenging, and you inhale sharply before flinging a wooden chair with your hand across the room at him. The man throws his arms up to deflect the oncoming assault and the chair splinters into pieces upon hitting his forearms. You’re stronger than you were before, all the rage and grief inside you helping to emphasize your powers.

“I promised him I’d always watch out for you,” Steve says in a pleading tone, remembering his words to Bucky that day at the compound. “I won’t fight you.”

“Tough,” it comes out like a snarl.

You fling another chair at him, which he blocks again, and you rush him before he can realize it, connecting your right fist with his jaw. The pain in your knuckles is excruciating but you don’t let it show as you wait for his reaction. He doesn’t swing back, only looks down at your small frame with hooded eyes. You shove his chest, frustration growing in his refusal to participate in this fight. A maddening scream escapes your lips as you pound both fists into him again, this time he envelopes you in his arms in an attempt to subdue you. Tears burn your eyes and Steve thinks he has the situation under control. Your heartrate increases as you close your eyes tightly and use everything inside of you to fling the two of you off your feet and onto the ground, sending both of you rolling across the floor. Steve starts to get back to his feet, but a force stronger than he’s ever felt before stops him, and he’s stuck on his knees as his arms are stretched out beside him, muscles taunt from the strain of him trying to pull free from the invisible force.

His tone is almost a warning, “This isn’t you.”

“Don’t act like you know me Rogers,” you seethe as you walk over to him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and jerking his head back to stare at him, rearing back with your right arm, ready to land another punch to his perfect face. He flicks his blue eyes up at you and they stop you cold, for a moment you can see Buck and you feel all the guilt pouring over you. So many things left unsaid, so many chances left untaken. You are the queen of not accepting what is right in front of you – Bucky was everything to you – and you didn’t realize it until it was too late. You hate yourself for several things and now you’re taking that hatred out on the man in front of you – a man who misses Bucky just as much as you do. It was no more his fault than it was yours. You could have been there by Tony’s side helping him in the fight, you might could have made a difference, but you didn’t want to play hero and look where that left you – alone.

You drop your right hand as a tear falls down your cheek and your lips begin to tremble. You stare at him for a second longer, burning the image of those deep blue eyes into your mind and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly as you envision Bucky’s longer, shaggier hair, and the dark beard he’d had the last time you had saw him. You can see him smiling, the way he would when he would watch you do the simplest things, like make homemade margaritas or when you’d sit perched on the sink to paint your toenails. He had been in love with you, for a lot longer than you had probably known, but you were far too damaged to accept it. You lean your forehead against the man in front of you as you drop to your knees, releasing the control you have over his body. You relax the grip you have on his hair as you inhale, and for a moment, you swear you can smell Bucky, an enticing mix of amber, vanilla, and leather. You realize Steve has kept his forehead against yours, following you as you settle on your knees in front of him. He’s almost a head taller than you in this position, but he’s ducked down to keep his forehead flush with yours.  


His breath burns your face as you feel his hand brush against the side of your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear, then resting it gently on the base of your neck. The heat emanating from his palm sends a shiver down your spine as your hand moves to his forearm instinctively. The touch of his skin against yours ignites a fire in the deepest, darkest part of you. His other hand moves lightly to your waist, and he leans back for a moment, staring down at you – as if asking permission. You swallow the lump in your throat as you run your tongue across your bottom lip quickly before glancing up at him. Your eyes connect with his for only a moment before his lips crash onto yours hard – much rougher than you would have imagined him capable of – his tongue exploring your mouth. It’s almost animalistic the way the two of you aggressively claw for one another – trying to devour each other. Clumsily divesting each other of your clothes, desperate for more. The emptiness inside you suddenly starving for the one thing Steve can give you. It sure as hell isn’t love. It’s anger, longing, and need – not for each other – but for those you lost. He takes you there on the oriental rug in your living room – long, slow strokes filling you. You cling to his shoulders, burying your face in his chest as the wave of ecstasy shatters you, and you let out an almost whimpering moan against his skin. You feel the growl start in his chest, as his hands grasp you in a primal way, sending you over the edge again as he finds his release.

It’s quick, passionate, and raw, but most of all – it feels wrong. The two of you share small glances of shame while you get dressed. Steve watches as you adjust your top, his words barely audible, “I’m sorry.”

You flick your eyes up at him, “Don’t be. We’re both adults.”

“But I am,” Steve remarks somberly. “He loved you, you know.”

“I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

The elevator comes to stop and the doors slowly open, revealing a man who is exhausted – both mentally and physically – he takes a deep breath before he steps into the hallway. He really tried tonight, to help the others in his group, but today marks two years since half of his friends turned into ash, and even though he keeps saying it to everyone else, it isn’t getting any easier. It’s days like this he envies normal people, he would give anything to be able to grab a bottle of whiskey and numb the pain, but thanks to his enhanced metabolism, that was useless. He slides his key into his lock before opening the door to his tiny apartment.

The sweet and spicy smell of Kung Pao chicken hits him as he pushes his door open and he realizes he’s not alone. His only thought is Nat, but she never shows up, she spends all of her time at the compound. He often takes his laundry there as an excuse to spend some time with her. She’d called him this morning just for a brief chat, neither one of them brought up what today was, but it had been understood. He closes his door behind him warily as you step out from the small kitchen area, placing two beer bottles on the counter in front of you, a half-smile on your face.

“Hi,” you greet him quietly.

“Hi,” he says in confusion, dropping his keys on the table before shrugging out of his jacket.

Steve Rogers has always considered himself a decent guy, he respects women, and he’s never exactly been the type for one-night stands, especially with the girl his best friend had been in love with. It’s been a year since that night, and the two of you haven’t seen each other since, not that he hasn’t tried. Unfortunately for him, you didn’t want to be found. You had been doing check calls with Natasha, but you had been avoiding Rogers. The two of you were barely friends before the snap, Bucky had been your only common factor. You were stubborn, snarky, and would challenge his authority every chance you got, which Barnes found amusing. He remembered Tony calling you _difficult_ once, and if that word didn’t describe you, none of them did.

“I tried to call you,” he says, hanging his jacket over the small hook on the back of the door.

“I know,” you nod, looking down at your sneakers.

“More than once,” Steve continues, folding his arms across his chest.

“I know.”

“I didn’t want you to think –” he begins, “I’m sorry.”

You glance back up to quickly interrupt him, “You don’t have to be sorry. I told you that.”

“What are you doing here?” The question is full of concern.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” you say quietly, feeling ashamed. “Not today.

Steve gives you a nod of understanding before walking over to the food, “Well, this – smells amazing.”

“I thought I’d bring food, since I did throw furniture at you the last time,” you respond. “Being angry is just easier – you know.”

“I know,” Steve watches as you move to sit on the sofa, bringing with you two bottles of beer you took from the counter.

“I just –” a heavy sigh escapes your lips as you blink back the tears, “I miss him.”

He moves a container of food across the coffee table closer to you as he takes one for himself before sitting down next to you, “Me too.” Steve passes you a pair of chopsticks.

“I didn’t realize how much I loved him,” the words are quiet. “It feels like a part of my soul is gone. He helped me so much, with everything, and I don’t know who I am anymore – I don’t know who I am without him.”

The man glances over at you, “You're still you. You'll always be the girl he fell in love with – never forget that.”

There’s a moment of silence as Steve takes a bite of his food.

“I shattered the windows in my apartment,” you stare into the container of Kung Pao chicken you have yet to take a bite of. “I was dreaming about him – I was trying to save him – I couldn’t. I released so much energy it shattered every window.”

“When was this?” Steve raises an eyebrow, the worry apparent on his face.

“Last night,” you slowly look over at him. “I called Tony; he’s working on a solution.”

Steve knows you've always been more powerful than you have let anyone else know because Bucky had shared your secret with him. He had kept you grounded – helped protect you from yourself – had trained you to control your emotions. Steve had been checking with Natasha and he had assumed you were managing – the frightened look on your face tells him otherwise. This was what Bucky meant when he had told him to watch out for you.

“I’m sorry –” the words come out broken as you place the container of food down, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Hey,” he begins soothingly, as he sets his food down, placing a hand gently on your shoulder, “it’s okay.”

His touch is a small comfort as you take a moment to regain your composure, allowing the tears to subside. You reach for your beer, taking a quick sip before glancing over at Steve. He slowly pulls his hand away from your shoulder as he diverts his attention back to his food.

You're so beautifully broken it hurts him. Bucky had trusted him with you, but Steve doesn’t know if he can trust himself with you – not after last time. He knows what happened between the two of you was wrong, that you were using each other as an escape from the pain – the loneliness. He keeps telling himself it meant nothing, but that doesn’t change the fact he still thinks of you often.

** _2 Years Ago_ **

“I should be there,” your tone is anxious as you glance around the empty common area of the compound before looking back to Bucky’s face on your laptop screen.

“You know Steve and I can handle this,” the man comments with a smile. “He should be here soon.”

“I know,” you sigh. “As soon as I saw the news, I tried to call Nat and I got here as soon as I could, but they were already headed to you.”

“Thought you were taking a break from all this?” He questions you with concern.

“I think this warrants coming back,” you reply. “I’ve been trying to reach Tony, but he’s offline. I don’t know where he is.”

“We’ll find him,” Bucky tries to reassure you, seeing the worry in your eyes. “Just do what you do, hold the fort down there until we get back.”

“_We_? Does that mean you’re coming back with them?”

“Now that you’re there – yea. I haven’t seen you three months,” his blue eyes shine brightly at you even through the laptop screen as he smirks.

You roll your eyes dramatically at him, “Whatever, you just need a break from Shuri.”

Someone calls to him from somewhere outside of the room and the smile slowly fades from his face, “I have to go.”

Taking a deep breath, you nod your understanding and reach to touch your fingertips to your screen. “Hey, I need you so, be careful, okay?”

“I got you,” Bucky’s look is genuine as his hand comes forward on the screen to touch where yours is, and he gives you a wink. “I’ll see you soon doll.”

***

“Hey,” Bucky stops Steve before he follows T’Challa and the others inside. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” his face is solemn as he responds.

Barnes slowly nods his understanding, “Just remember, if anything happens – I need you to watch out for her okay?”

“Buck,” the man begins to protest.

“Take care of her Steve,” Bucky says sternly. “Promise me.”

Rogers hesitates for a moment before he claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I promise.”

***

You stand outside the compound in the eerie quiet, the only sound is the approaching quinjet. No one is answering your calls, the news and social media are going crazy about people turning to ash, but you know that’s not possible, because that would mean they’d lost – they never lose. As the door to the quinjet opens, your veins turn to ice as your breathing stops, the look on Bruce’s face says it all – they had lost. He glances back over his shoulder to Steve, who looks like a shell of the man you once knew. You start to approach the jet slowly, urging your legs to move as you wait for Bucky to appear. Steve reaches you before you get to the plane. He’s still covered in dirt and blood from the fight and you can see it in his eyes – he’s shattered to the core.

“Buck,” his name manages to slip from your mouth before the lump forms in your throat.

“He didn’t –” Steve’s words rip your heart from your chest, and you don’t even realize you’re falling until he catches you. Silent tears stream down your face and you can’t move or feel anything. “I’m sorry – I’m so sorry.” He says cradling you to his chest and if you could register anything, you’d feel the warmth of his tears mixing with yours and how his whole body is trembling as he tries to hold it together while you fall apart in his arms.

“Should he be that close to her?” Bruce questions Natasha with concern as they watch the two of you from the edge of the quinjet.

“She has it under control,” Nat replies sadly. “Or at least she did.”

** _Present Day_ **

Steve carries the empty Chinese containers into the kitchen after you finally finish eating and you lean back on the sofa, nursing your second bottle of beer. You notice a worn leather notebook lying on the end table beside you and you pick it up curiously, replacing it with your bottle. Carefully you flip the notebook open and realize it’s a sketchbook as you see on the first page an amazing black and white portrait of Bucky. Your heart skips a beat, he’s younger with short hair and it’s obvious that this is the Bucky who Steve remembers from when they were younger. Running your fingers along the page gingerly, you blink back the tears that threaten to fall. You quickly flip the page and see a drawing he has of Tony in the lab, then the next page is a portrait of Wanda and Vision side by side. Continuing through the journal you find sketches of every member of Rogers’ team, not realizing he’s walked up behind you, as you flip to the last sketch in the book – it’s of you. You’re leaning against the bar in the compound and you recognize the dress instantly as the one you were wearing the first night you met Steve and Bucky – well everyone actually. However, in your hand, instead of a drink, you hold an open book with the words _Spells & Potions _written on the spine. The smile you wear is sweet and innocent and you have one eyebrow raised mischievously. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and the fact that it’s you – is almost terrifying.

“I tried to get the eyes right,” Steve says quietly, causing you to jump a little at his presence.

“Well, you got the nose wrong,” you reply, and he glances down at you in confusion, and you continue with a smirk, “you know witches have large noses with giant warts.”

Steve gives you an unimpressed look. “These are really great,” you say quietly as you close the notebook and pat the leather cover gently before handing it to him. “I’m flattered to be included.”

“You were always part of my team,” he comments moving around the sofa. “Even when you didn’t want to be.”

“I had authority issues,” you remark narrowing your eyes. “Can you blame me?” Your years of being used as a weapon had given you trust issues when it came to those in leadership positions, because they were always the ones in charge of you.

Steve sits on the sofa, placing the book on the coffee table as you take another sip from your bottle, his words come slowly, “I’m don’t know what you’re –”

“No,” you interrupt him, pointing a finger in his direction, “I know he told you everything. So, if anyone knows anything – it’s you. Why do you think I’m here?”

Your words stop him, and he stares at you blankly for a moment. Apparently, what happened between the two of you had meant nothing to you, which he understands, but that doesn’t mean your words don’t hurt him. You can see the almost pained expression on his face at your words – your years of reading people coming into play.

“I’m sorry,” you begin more gently than before, “what I mean is, he trusted you.” The man across from you glances up, his blue eyes meeting yours as you continue. “And I always have too.”

“Even after, last time?”

You look away from him as you fidget with the ring on your middle finger nervously, “I was angry. We were grieving, no one can blame us for wanting to feel something – anything – other than this.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” he responds. “For that I’m sorry.”

You look at him, narrowing your eyes in anger, “Fuck, why do you keep apologizing? I was there to; don’t you think I feel guilty? You act like we were engaged or something, hell, he never so much as kissed me!”

Steve hadn’t thought about the guilt you might be carrying – unrequited love. His feelings seeming much more miniscule as you shake your head angrily. The two of you had loved each other so deeply, but neither of you had ever acted on those feelings out of fear. Steve can’t even begin to imagine what that must feel like. He tries to think of what Bucky would want for you, after all, he did entrust you to him.

“He made me promise to watch out for you,” Steve says softly. “If anything were to happen.” You glance back over at him in confusion as he continues. “That’s why I keep apologizing.”

You take a deep breath before responding, “Well, now I feel like an ass for avoiding your calls.” The laugh that escapes his lips sounds foreign to you, but it brings a smile to your face.

***

The small cries from the bedroom wake Steve from where he sleeps on his sofa later that night. It takes him a moment to realize what is happening and as he heads for his room, he can feel the floor beneath him begin to quiver. Anyone else would think it might be an earthquake, but he knows immediately what is happening. He rushes through the door, seeing you jerk frantically under the covers, small, hysteric cries escaping you. Steve sits on the edge of his bed, pulling the blankets back and gently tries to subdue you as he makes soothing sounds, taking your arms in his hands.

“Hey,” he says, watching your eyes jerk open frantically. “It’s me.”

Sitting up slowly, you try to steady your breathing, as you glance back to Steve. Your blood feels like it’s boiling, and your head is pounding, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he responds gently, brushing your hair out of your face. “We’ll call Tony again tomorrow – we’re going to fix this.” You give him a nod of understanding and he continues, “Do you need some water of anything?”

You grab his wrist quickly before he can move away, your voice desperate, “Don’t go– please.” He looks at you hesitantly before he begins to slip into his bed next to you, allowing you to curl into him, laying your head against his shoulder. You can feel the fire in your veins subsiding as he wraps his arms around you, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Steve,” you barely tilt your head on his shoulder, feeling his head close to yours.

“Yea,” his breath is warm against your face.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and you feel his lips brush against your forehead lightly.

“I got you.”


	3. Chapter 3

** _6 Years Ago_ **

Ally was innocent in all of this; Hydra had wanted you, but you weren’t home when they broke into the apartment the two of you had shared, so they took her instead – collateral. They’d heard the rumors from your previous handlers of the power lurking just below the surface, a power you had refused to unleash.

By the time you and the four-member team (Stark, Wilson, Barnes, and Romanoff) had found the Hydra base it was too late. You had walked in to find Ally tied to a chair in the center of the room, trails of blood down the front of her blouse from the gaping wound across her neck. All the life drained from her young, beautiful face. Bucky had tried to keep you from seeing her, but it was too late, he could see the change in your demeanor – the rage in your eyes. No one else on the team was sure why the building began to shake ever so slightly as you ran outside, but Tony had his theories as he watched the dark-haired soldier follow after you. That was the day your life changed, something broke inside you seeing Ally’s lifeless body, but looking back that was also the day you gained something else.

*

“Don’t,” you warn from the edge of the tree line, watching as the man moves cautiously towards you. You’d tried to run as far from the building – as far away from the team – as possible. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Barnes doesn’t stop his advance, “I guess that’s a chance we’re going to have to take.”

“Please,” your veins are burning white hot and every muscle in your body is electrified. Your voice is weak and frantic. “I can’t control it – not when it’s like this – it’s too much.”

He slowly takes your hands in his, one at a time, the cool metal from the prosthetic arm is a welcomed relief to your burning skin. “Well I’m not leaving you out here alone, this is what they want, to push you over the edge.”

Angry, hot tears well up at the thought of Ally and you close your eyes tightly.

“Don’t be who they want you to become,” his words are surprisingly soft as his hands gently squeeze yours. “You’re more than that – just breathe.”

You do as he instructs, the fire still raging just beneath the surface. It takes a moment for the anger to subside and grief to take its place, chilling you to the bone as tears begin to fall silently. The heartache diminishes the uncontrollable feeling you had. The two coincide – grief and anger – only one unleashes that power within you. You drop your head as you let the sadness consume you, sobbing at the thought of your friend and her innocence. Bucky pulls you closer to him, releasing your hands as he envelopes you in his arms.

After that day it became a ritual, much like Natasha with Bruce, anytime you were too close to the edge, Bucky was the one sent in to bring you back down. He was never afraid of you and supported your powers because they were a part of you, no matter how much you hated them.

** _5 Years Ago_ **

“Barnes,” Stark’s voice comes across the earpiece frantically. “You got eyes on her? I have a feeling that’s not an earthquake.”

The soldier is already on his way up the stairs to you, knowing that dealing with Hydra is always a little more intense for you than any other missions. Intense scenarios don’t mix well with your power, although he’s trying to help you work on controlling that too.

“Hey,” he says calmly entering the room, taking note of the three Hydra agents lying on the floor around you. “You good?” He can see the look in your eyes as you glance up at him, sweat beading up on your forehead, and it’s a look he’s grown fond of. It’s not pride or enjoyment he gets from it, but rather an honor – a privilege – to be the one person you turn to.

“I need – a minute,” you say breathlessly. You can hear the rattle, clings, and clangs of everything in the room as the whole building trembles underneath you. “This was a lot.”

Barnes lays his weapon down on the desk as he moves closer to you, “Come here.” He reaches for you and you turn to him, pressing your forehead against the front of his suit as your hands cling to his arms. 

“Talk to me,” you say, closing your eyes tightly. The sound of glass cracking and wood splintering is only making matters worse. “I need to take my mind off it.”

Bucky glances around, knowing he needs to do something quickly before the whole building collapses around you and he begins, his voice a bit off-key, “Somebody said you had a new friend, does she love you better than I can?” He tries to get the rhythm right as he continues, “There’s a big black sky over my town, I know where you’re at, I bet she’s around.”

You tilt your head back to look at him in utter disbelief, “Are you singing Robyn?”

“Yea I know it’s stupid,” he smirks at you, noticing that the building is beginning to settle as you continue to look at him in complete awe. “I just gotta see it for myself.”

“I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her,” you slowly being to sing along with him. “Oohh.” The pain is subsiding as your body temperature slowly returns to normal. “I’m right over here, why can’t you see me? Oohh.” A smirk crosses your lips as you shove his shoulder playfully, “You have been listening to my playlist, jerk.”

“Least it wasn’t Jonas Brothers,” Stark’s voice comes across both their coms.

“Can we make this mandatory for every mission?” Sam’s voice states through their earpieces. “Maybe next time a little Beyoncé.”

“Or next time I’ll just let her bring the building down,” Barnes winks at you, his blue eyes contrasting brightly against the dirt and grime on his face.

** _Present Day_ **

The next morning you’re leaning against counter in the kitchen, sipping carefully from a cup of coffee, trying to not think about having slept with Steve last night. Sex you could handle. It was physical – a release – something complete strangers do. Maybe you’re overthinking things, but actually sleeping together, your body curled into his was more intimate.

The pop of the toaster jerks you out for your thoughts as Steve eases his way into the kitchen, “Morning.”

“Hey,” you respond, pointing across to the with freshly toasted bread sitting peacefully between the two slots of the toaster. “I made breakfast.”

“I’m impressed,” he smirks.

“You should be,” you remark as he moves to make him a cup of coffee.

“Once you finish, call Tony about last night and then get ready,” Steve instructs with a half-smile. “I have an idea for today.”

You cock an eyebrow at him curiously as you take another sip of your coffee.

***

“What are we doing here?” You question Steve as the two of you make your way along the river walkway toward a carousel. It’s been years since you’ve been here, it used to be one of your favorite places back when the world was right. However, now the carousel looks deserted – desolate – nowhere near the brightly lit, colorful attraction it once was.

“You used to love this place,” Rogers states knowingly and you furrow your brow in confusion. You watch as Steve makes his way around the outside of the merry-go-round searching for something. After a moment, the lights and music suddenly come to life and you take a step back in surprise as Steve walks back around with his arms held out in triumph.

“Hop on,” he orders with a smile and you do as he says, watching as he fiddles with the controls at the small operator’s booth. You pick a beautifully painted white horse with red and gold details, then pull yourself up to straddle the fiberglass creature as the carousel begins to spin slowly, creaking and popping as it comes back to life. As it makes a complete turn, you realize Steve’s no longer at the operator’s booth and you begin to look around for him. “Hey.” His words startle you, he’s so close you can feel the warmth of his body near your thigh as your horse slowly rises and falls in rhythm with the other horses.

“How did you know about this place?” You wrap your hands around the steel pole in front of you, before leaning your temple against it.

“How do you think?”

You roll your eyes, “Was there anything about me he didn’t tell you?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay, so why bring me here?”

The look in his eyes sincere, “When’s the last time you took a moment to breathe?”

You stare at him without answering, knowing you’ve kept yourself busy in one form or another so much since that day that breathing hasn’t been an option.

“How long has it been out of control?” Steve questions, gripping the pole of the horse beside you.

“I’ve felt it,” you begin quietly, “coming for a couple months. Knowing it’s been two years since that day.”

“Was it like this a year ago?”

You give a shake of your head, not wanting to tell him that a year ago you were still crying yourself to sleep every night. Grief had a much stronger hold on you then, you had only tried to hide it with anger.

“Well, I’m sure Tony can figure something out,” he comments reassuringly. “Until then – let’s try breathing.”

You give him a small smile and turn to watch the world spin by ever so slowly, remembering the last time you were here, watching the scene play out before you as if from a movie. You toss your head back laughing as Bucky leans his face into your shoulder, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. Your arm is stretching away from the two of you with your cell phone clutched awkwardly in your hand as you try to get both of you in frame for a photo. The black horse you’re sitting on slowly rises then falls, bringing you back face to face with the man, allowing you to snap the photo. Barnes tears a piece of cotton candy from the bag in his hand as you inspect the photo and he offers it to you. Without looking away from the device you open your mouth and he slides the sugary concoction past your lips just like he’s done hundreds of times before. You show him the photo with a warm smile which he reciprocates. Being with him was easy and to anyone watching, they would have assumed the two of you were more than friends, because _just friends_ don’t look at each other that way.

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to the present and you realize the carousel has stopped spinning. You look over to find what’s becoming a familiar look of concern on Steve’s face, “You good?”

“Yea,” you respond, moving to slide off the white horse. The man beside you keeps a steady hand on you until you manage to get both feet on the wooden floor. You glance up at him, seeing the flash in his eye like before he kissed you last time. Your heart stops for a moment in anticipation, but he takes a step back and you sigh with slight disappointment. “Will this fieldtrip of yours involve food?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets with a smirk, “It can.”

***

You open the door to Steve’s apartment for him, because you have one plastic grocery bag full of items on your wrist, where as he has two bags dangling from one arm, a six pack of beer gripped in one hand, and a large pizza box held steady in the other. He’s laughing as he enters the apartment and you’re defending your excessive grocery run.

“You’ve never experienced a movie night then,” you say defiantly. “Popcorn is merely an appetizer. You need some form of chocolate, gummy worms, both sweet and sour, cotton candy –”

“Gummy worms?” Steve interrupts your list as he places the beer in the fridge. “Like gummy bears?”

“Seriously?” You stare at him blankly for a moment, before you move to find the box of sour worms. Tearing into it like a small child, you pull out a bright pink and blue gummy candy shaped like its namesake and shove it toward his mouth. “Try it.” He opens his mouth cautiously, allowing you to slip the candy inside, your finger and thumb brushing against his bottom lip as you pull your hand back.

You’re unsure if he did that on purpose, but you can see a playful glint in his eye as he chews the candy. “Not bad huh?”

“Not bad,” he comments, removing some other contents from one of the bags. “I still prefer popcorn.”

Halfway through whatever action thriller is playing on the TV, you lean forward from the sofa to the assortment of snacks spread out on the coffee table. You grab the last handful of gummy worms and lean back against the cushions, your legs are crossed underneath you and one of the plain throw pillows, which obviously came standard with the sofa, is lying in your lap. Steve stretches towards you on the sofa, closing the distance, “Can I?” He’s looking at the candy in your palm and you close your hand quickly, tucking it against your chest.

“Oh no, you have popcorn – remember?”

“Is that how it is?”

“Yep.”

His brows knit together as he frowns – almost pouting – watching you pull an orange and green worm from your palm. You bite the worm in half for dramatic effect and offer him the green piece. He takes it from you, this time with his teeth, and you smirk proudly. “Told you my movie nights are better. I’m pretty awesome, didn’t he tell you that?”

The blue-eyed man in front of you leans back as he chews the candy slowly, a look of slight confusion crossing his features. “No, I figured that out on my own.” You watch him, the playful glint from earlier is replaced with a look of sad remorse. “The moment he told me you were who he’d been spending time with. You brought back a part of him I’d almost forgotten about, that kid who would spend every last dollar we had trying to win a stuffed bear for a girl at the fair.” He glances over at you achingly, and suddenly all his apologies make sense. It’s never really been an apology to you, but to the man he feels like he’s betraying. “You were the best thing to happen to him.”

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat as Steve stands up abruptly and walks into the kitchen. Your heart aches for something you never had the chance to have with Bucky and you quickly stand to follow behind the blue-eyed man, finding him leaning over his sink, his head hanging between his shoulders. He glances in your direction as you lean against the counter, “I’m –”

“If you say sorry Rogers, I swear, I’ll fling another stool at your head,” you place one hand on your hip. “Don’t make do that, because you have really nice stools.” He smiles tiredly as he drops his head again. “You said,” you begin quietly, gaining his attention, “he told you to watch out for me. Why do you think that is?” He holds your gaze as you move closer, gently placing your hand on top of his. “Maybe he didn’t want either of us to be alone. I feel closest to him when I’m with you, maybe because you’re the only other person who knew him better than I did.” Steve glances down as you continue. “I feel something around you that I haven’t felt since him. I don’t know what this is,” the words are hesitant as you squeeze slightly on his hand which is gripping the edge of countertop. “We can ignore it if you want to – pretend it doesn’t exist – but I think we’ve both lost when it comes to playing that game before.” Steve flicks his eyes over to you. “I’ve accepted the fact that he’s not coming back Steve – when will you?” The words hang in the air heavily as you pull your hand away before turning and walking out of the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

** _2021_ **

It’s nearly nine months after your conversation in Steve’s kitchen before he finally shows up at your door. Nine months of friendly calls just to check in, never lasting longer than a few minutes. You had kept your distance though because it’s easier that way.

You’re in the quiet darkness of your living room absent-mindedly watching television – Golden Girls reruns – when the frantic knocking from your apartment door startles you. It’s the middle of the night and it frightens you enough you remove the small silver bracelet Stark designed for you – a power dampening device. Trouble always has a way of finding you, but you carefully check the peephole to find the captain looking slightly disheveled in his black leather jacket and jeans, not aware he’s been driving his motorcycle around aimlessly for the last three hours. Tonight’s survivors meeting had been an extremely hard one for him, because he found out one of his members had passed away in a car accident yesterday. He had been making the most progress in the group and a freak accident had taken everything away just as quick as the snap had.

You open the door slowly, rubbing the back of your neck sleepily.

“Steve,” you greet, adjusting your eyes to the bright fluorescents of the hallway. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” he gives an uneasy shake of his head, eyes settling on yours. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. Dammit – I tried.” You feel the weight of his words and your stomach drops. His hands rest on either side of your doorframe, holding himself back. “I can’t stop thinking about you – I don’t think I ever have – part of it feels wrong, but I –” You hold his frightened gaze, wanting to reach for him, but you wonder if it’ll scare him away. “I keep giving myself every reason not to and I don’t know why anymore.” There’s more than desperation and sadness in his blue eyes, even though he tries to mask it, because you see a brief flash of it – hopelessness – something’s happened to cause him this torment. “What’s the point in trying to pretend it isn’t real? I’m done.”

He’s on you before you can respond, pulling your face to his, lips pressing against yours. Soft, yet firm. Intimate. You can smell the faint notes of cedar left over from his cologne, which you weren’t even aware you missed the smell of until this very moment. He pulls away after a beat, staring down at you with such intensity, you’d melt into the floor if you weren’t holding onto the door. His blue eyes plead with you for a response to this grand gesture and you finally swallow the lump in your throat before gently cupping the side of his face, saying softly, “Okay.”

You can see the tears brimming in his eyes and you carefully close the door, locking it as you hold onto his arm comfortingly before you glance back up at him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes as he slowly sinks to his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist before he buries his face against your shirt. The tears seeping through the fabric are cool on your stomach as one hand caresses his shoulders and neck, while the other holds his head against you, brushing your fingers through his hair as you whisper, “Hey – I got you.”

After several quiet moments, you feel his hands begin to slide the oversized tee shirt your wearing up slowly, until your stomach is bare, and he presses a wet kiss along the sensitive area below your ribcage. You inhale sharply before tugging the shirt over your head, his hands leaving goosebumps in their wake as they trail over the thin boy short material that’s clinging to the curve of your ass then down the back of your thighs. You feel the heat from his breath on you, even through the fabric and you can feel it start building at your core. Your head falls back as he kisses you tenderly before sucking at your clit through the material. Your hips roll into him instinctively as you tighten the grip your fingers have in his hair. Within a second he’s slipped the boy shorts down and you tremble as his tongue presses against you – swirling and sucking – the heat from his mouth as he tastes you is overwhelming in the coolness of your apartment. The sensation that’s been building finally crashes down around you and your body trembles with the breathy moan that slips past your lips.

His mouth is back on yours – hard and desperate – you can taste yourself on him as his tongue slides against yours. Your pushing the leather jacket off his shoulders as he fumbles with his jeans, neither of you breaking the kiss. Clothes are discarded haphazardly as he lifts you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall roughly, causing the drywall to quiver against your back from the impact. Your body molds against him as his teeth graze across your bottom lip. You can feel your body tighten around him as he slips inside you, eliciting a low, throaty moan from him. Pulling his lips back to yours, you kiss him roughly as your bodies move together as one, sucking his tongue into your mouth. His movements quicken and you press your forehead against his, your nose brushing against his, as you feel him pulse hard inside you sending you over the edge again as he fills you.

You find your feet as his lips brush against yours softly, his hands cradling your face. You finally pull away from him – thighs sticky – with a small smirk, “I’m gonna shower now.”

He nods his understanding, “I’ll wait.”

Steve doesn’t wait though, slipping into the steam filled bathroom and into the glass shower behind you. His hands pin yours above your head as his mouth lays claim on your again, water trailing down his face and onto yours.

“Steve,” you finally breath against his ear as he moves to kiss your neck. “What –”

“Making up,” he interrupts, pulling back to look at your face sincerely, water cascading around him, “for lost time.” He does just that as he takes you again in the shower.

***

The next morning you’re standing at your kitchen counter, pouring yourself a cup of coffee as Steve slowly makes his way into over to you, your silver bracelet dangling from his finger.

“Looking for this?” He questions. “It was on floor beside the hall table, must have fallen off last night.”

“I actually took it off,” you respond, taking it from him. “I didn’t know who was pounding on my door in the middle of the night.”

“I didn’t know you still needed it?”

You stare at the silver band in your hand for a moment, a safety net you never needed before, now you rely on constantly. You take a deep breath before you hand it back to Steve. “Hold on to it for me, will you?”

“I can,” he nods. “Are you sure?”

“It’s time. No more pretending,” you respond.

** _2023_ **

“Yes,” your answer is quick, even before Steve can finish the proposition of time travel.

He smiles at the eagerness in your tone, the instant brightness in your eyes, “If we get all the stones, we can bring everyone back.”

“Bring everyone home,” you nod, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Are you okay?” He says quietly, seeing the flash of confusion on your face.

“Yea,” you look at him before shaking your head. “No – I love you.” You move to touch his face tenderly. “I _do _love you.”

“I know,” he stares at you with an understanding that only he has. “But you still love him.”

You run your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails against his scalp, before you brush your lips against his softly. Thankful for his sympathy and compassion, unsure what you did to deserve it.

“I love you too,” he whispers against your lips.

** _***_ **

Through the dust and the chaos of victory you finally see him, weapon in hand, long hair tied back, and his face covered in dirt and blood from the battle. You’d looked for him during the fight after everyone had come through the portals, but it was madness. He’s only about a hundred yards away, the motionless bodies of Thanos' army litter the ground between you. He’s turning around slowly, eyes scanning the dissaray of people reuniting in happiness, searching for you, but you're already running toward him clumsily – clambering over fallen members of the Black Order. A wide smile crosses his face upon seeing you and he drops his gun to his side in order to catch you as you crash into him, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging to him tightly.

He laughs from having the air knocked out of him, holding you tighter than he ever has before. You lean back to examine him, confirming he’s not a figment of your imagination as your hands move from his shoulders to his face.

“I got you,” tears form in the corners of your eyes.

“You got me,” he assures you, wiping the dirt and tears away from your cheek, blue eyes scanning your face as he takes you in for a moment. The corners of his lips turn up slightly before he slips his hand around your neck to pull your face to his. His mouth is hot on yours – desperate – overdue and you kiss him back roughly. Pressing your tongue against his as your hands slip into his hair, clutching him closer to you. You lose yourself with him for a minute before you pull away, unwrapping yourself from him, standing back on your own feet as you catch your breath – guilt slapping you across the face.

He watches you with a small smile, hand still on the back of your neck, “Your hair’s different. How long was I gone?”

You glance up at him sadly as realization sinks in, “Buck, it’s been five years.”

“Did you see her?” Thor’s boisterous voice gains your attention and you both turn to see him approaching with Steve and Tony. Your heart stops and your stomach lurches. The smile on the Asgardian’s face is infectious as he places a hand on your shoulder proudly, standing behind you. “Rogers, did you see how your little dove handled Thanos? She and Wanda were truly a force to be reckoned with.”

Tony tries subtly to stop Thor as he’s talking but to no avail, his words causing Bucky to look between you and Steve in confusion while you and the captain can only glance remorsefully at the man before you.

“Well,” Stark interrupts, “as awkward as this is. We won. Let’s celebrate – for once.” He moves to drape an arm across your shoulders, pulling you with him and away from the others. “Come help me find my wife, she’s in suit very similar to mine – more feminine.”

You’re thankful for Stark and his ability to read people, because right now, you need to be as far away from this situation as possible. Thor starts after the two of you, curious as to what he said wrong.

“Five years,” Bucky says quietly, a mix of emotions crossing his features.

“Buck,” Steve begins.

“How long?” He interrupts his friend. “How long have you two been –”

Steve looks at him apologetically for a moment before answering, “A little over two years now.”

His jaw clenches as he takes that information in, “Do you love her?”

“Buck –”

“Do you love her?”

Steve glances down for a moment before finally looking back up at his friend, “I tried not to – I really did.”

Reassurance reflects in Barnes’ eyes as he stares at the one person he’s known longer than anyone else. “Trust me – I get it.”

“She never stopped loving you,” Steve assures him. “We just tried to move on and now –”

“I’m back,” Bucky finishes his statement with a small smirk. “Looks like we’ll have some things to work out.”

“I missed you Buck,” Steve says sincerely.

“Missed you too pal,” the man replies, moving to embrace the captain.

“Can I get in on this action?” Sam’s voice interrupts their hug and Steve laughs, quickly giving Wilson a hug as well.

“Glad to have to you back Sam,” he states.

“Yea,” Wilson looks at him in curiously. “About that, am I seeing things or is there a talking racoon on the team now?”

** _***_ **

“I saw you out there,” Barnes comments to you, as the others gather around the platform. “You’re more powerful than before and your controlling it better.”

“I have you to thank for that,” you smile to him, “and Steve. Thank you for watching out for me even after you were gone.”

Bucky’s eyes fall as he contemplates the situation before he glances back to you, “Where do we go from here?”

Touching his arm gently, your eyes are sincere, “I don’t know. I do know that I need you – both – in my life.”

He reaches for hand, pulling it up to his lips gently, placing a kiss against the back of your knuckles, “We’ll figure it out – we got you.”

Your fingers intertwine with Bucky’s as Tony and Steve climb the stairs of the platform. He glances from your hands to your face, the reality of time being a fragile thing, hitting him as he watches the concerned expression on your face.

“4, 3, 2, 1,” Banner counts down in the distance.

“I love you,” the words fall out quietly and he watches you look up at him.

You lean up and brush your lips against his softly before you respond, “I love you too.”

Tony and Steve return the stones, surprising everyone when they appear back on the platform with Natasha. Clint rushes the stairs and you leave Barnes’ side as you race for the platform smiling widely as the man nearly tackles the red head, dragging her into his embrace. Flicking your eyes from them to Steve you blink back the tears as he reaches for your hand. You take it and he pulls you closer to his side as he says quietly to you, “I had to bring everyone home.”

“You did good,” you rest your palm against the embroidered star on his chest, patting it with reassurance.

Barton finally releases Nat, giving you the chance to pull her against you tightly, tears slipping down your cheeks. After moment, you release her, moving to stand beside Steve as Wilson, Barnes, Banner, and Thor make their way onto the platform, each taking a moment to reunite with their fallen comrade.

“So,” Natasha says glancing over to Tony, “what now boss?”

“We celebrate,” Stark replies with a warm smile, glancing around at his team. Steve is to his left, beside you, Bucky, and Sam, while Natasha stands on the opposite side of Tony with Clint, Bruce and Thor. “We rebuild. We take this second chance and we make the most of it. This team – this family – we’re stronger together and we won’t let anything tear us apart.”


End file.
